Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
LUCY
He’s still feeling guilty.
No matter how many times I tell Xavier what happened the other day wasn’t his fault, I can tell he doesn’t believe me.
Not that he comes right out and says it. He’ll come up with some vague response like I’m just glad you’re okay or he’ll change the subject completely, asking me what I want for dinner or if I’d like to come to the gym with him the next morning to practice the self-defense techniques he’s been teaching me.
“Give him some time,” Erik told me during our yoga session yesterday, after I broke down and asked for advice.
“I know he thinks it’s his fault,” I said, “but it’s not. If anything, it’s mine. I’m the one they came after. If anything had happened, it would have been on me.”
Erik released his pose, turning to look at me with a serious expression. “No, Lucy. It’s not your fault. At all. And Xavier… he wants to protect you. He needs to. So regardless of how it happened, he’s going to feel guilty. In time, when the memories aren’t as fresh, he’ll get some perspective.”
“It stinks,” I replied. “All he’s done is protect me. If not for Xavier and you guys…”
“Give it some time,” Erik repeated, this time patting me gently on the shoulder. “It’ll all work out.”
When I first met Erik, I was a little intimidated by him. Almost a foot taller than my five-foot-six, heavily muscled, there was this quiet intensity about him, like he was constantly on guard, waiting for some sign of danger.
After spending weeks learning yoga and meditation with him, I know that once he drops his guard, he’s kind and funny. He makes goofy jokes just to make his friends laugh.
I know he still struggles with his PTSD, and being on guard is one way of coping with it. And I can tell, when he finally finds the right woman, he’ll be as fiercely protective of her as Xavier is of me.
It’s ironic, really. For years, I was so determined to be independent. Growing up surrounded by wealth, it would have been easy to let my parents take care of everything. Give me a cushy job at my dad’s company. Set me up in a mansion in their gated community. Replace my ten-year-old Honda with a luxury car and send me on expensive trips all around the world.
But that’s never been what I wanted.
While I would never complain about my childhood or the advantages my parents provided me, once I became an adult, I wanted to make it on my own. Find my own success, whatever that meant, just like my dad did when he started his company.
So I worked in restaurants and retail stores and wrote like crazy. I budgeted and taught myself how to make home repairs and babied my car so it wouldn’t need to be replaced. I bought furniture from estate sales and thrift shops. And whenever my parents would give me money—usually a wad of hundreds my dad would press into my hand at the end of a visit—I donated it to charity.
Kali thinks I’m crazy. She thinks I should embrace the life my parents could give me.
But my parents get it. They came from nothing, once upon a time. And while they’d gladly do anything to help me, they respect my decisions.
So it’s kind of funny that I ended up with a man who would do literally anything to take care of me. He would pay all the bills so I could stay home and write full time. I’d never have to fix a gurgling drain or a flickering light. He would insist on buying me the safest car, regardless of the price.
He hasn’t said all that to me, but I just know. It’s who he is. And I love him for it.
That’s why I’d let him do all the repairs. It’s why I’d agree to the car, if he really wanted. Would I give up all my independence? No. But if it makes him happy, I can compromise.
I’ve never felt this way before. Like Xavier’s happiness is truly my own.
And that’s why it hurts to know he’s suffering. To know he’s struggling with guilt over something I absolutely don’t blame him for.
I can see it in his down-turned mouth and the slump of his shoulders when he thinks I’m not looking. Or the way he stares out the window, his jaw flexing, like he’s thinking about the events of a few days ago.
My nightmares are the worst, because I can see his pain on full display. While I fight to steady my breathing and swallow back my tears, his eyes are dark and tortured, and I know he’s blaming himself for it.
The question is, how can I convince Xavier to believe me?
“Luce?” Xavier touches my hand. Worry darkens his gaze, and I realize belatedly that I’ve been staring at him for far too long without speaking. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” I give myself a mental shaking. “I just… got caught in my thoughts for a second.”
He frowns. “Are you sure? If something’s bothering you…”
Well, as a matter of fact. There are a number of things bothering me, my concern for Xavier right at the top. But is this the time I want to bring it up? Right before I’m supposed to go over to Sarah’s apartment to help plan her wedding? Before Xavier heads down to the shooting range to get his bi-weekly practice in? Is this the best time to launch into a serious discussion that will probably end up with me crying?
Probably not.
“I’m fine,” I assure him with a smile. “Just thinking about Sarah’s wedding. I’m really looking forward to helping her plan it.”
Which is true. Sarah’s become a good friend, just as Jade has—an unexpected but welcome silver lining in this whole experience. And when Sarah asked me if I’d be a bridesmaid last week, I was thrilled to say yes.
Not only am I happy to help Sarah with her wedding, it has the added bonus of helping occupy my time. When I first got to B and A, I was too shellshocked to think about doing much of anything, but as time went on, I started to feel restless. Daily walks and yoga and catching up on my favorite authors was great, but it wasn’t enough.
More recently, I’ve been helping the team out with some administrative stuff—making travel arrangements, ordering supplies, creating promotional materials—but wedding planning is a welcome addition. It brings out the creative side of me that’s been stifled since those terrible days in the cabin.
Xavier’s expression relaxes, and his eyes brighten to a warm chocolate laced with gold. “Good. I’m really glad you guys get along so well. And who knows, maybe you’ll get some good ideas for?—”
As he cuts himself off, twin spots of red appear high on his cheekbones. Hurriedly, he continues, “Anyway. When do you think you’ll be done?”
I’m still stuck on the last thing he said, or the part he didn’t say, rather—the part I’m hoping has to do with our own wedding. No, we’re not engaged, and the topic hasn’t come up. But it doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about it. Or spun the idea of becoming Mrs. Lucy Stone around in my head, because as much as I like having my own identity, I would definitely take Xavier’s last name when we married.
“Luce?”
Jeez. What is wrong with me? I’m about two seconds away from scribbling Xavier’s and my initials in a notebook, complete with little hearts all around them. “I’ll probably be there for a couple of hours,” I reply quickly. “So I’ll be back before dinner. I was thinking of trying this recipe Sarah gave me; it’s for this taco skillet dish?—”
“Actually, I had something in mind,” Xavier says. “Kind of… a surprise. So I’ll take care of dinner tonight, if that’s okay?”
“A surprise? For dinner?”
He grins. “Don’t be afraid. I promise it’ll be edible.”
Looping my arms around his neck, I kiss his cheek. “I’ll love whatever you make.”
His hand strokes down the length of my hair as he chuckles, his chest rumbling against mine. “Love might be a bit of an exaggeration. But it’ll be good. At least, I’ll try my best.”
Aww.
My heart melts.
“It’ll be great.” Brushing my lips across his, I add, “I can’t wait.”
Just when I think Xavier can’t be any more perfect, he does something to prove me wrong.
I walked into the apartment expecting to find Xavier in the kitchen, piles of pots and pans and dishes around him, looking slightly flustered like he always does when he tries to cook. I was expecting a pasta dish of some sort, something with lots of cheese and garlic, possibly with the ingredients for a simple salad on the side. And if he was feeling inspired, maybe a bottle of wine or a small bouquet of flowers picked from the garden set on the dining room table.
But I wildly underestimated what Xavier planned.
The apartment is immaculate, and as I look across the open living space to the kitchen, there’s not a dirty dish or pan in sight. Candles in mason jars are set all around the room, their golden glow creating a romantic feel. Soft music is playing, a jazz singer crooning about love in a sultry rasp.
And the flowers.
There must be hundreds of them, all in different shades of yellow—tulips and roses and carnations and daisies—arranged on every available surface. At the center of the dining room table there’s a large bouquet, with at least two-dozen flowers, a gorgeous splash of color against a crisp white tablecloth.
The table is set with plates I know I’ve never seen before, sleek white with touches of gold that match the silverware. Elegant wine glasses and a bottle of my favorite Pinot complete the presentation, already uncorked and ready to pour.
I’ve been to a lot of fancy restaurants in my life, but none of them come close to competing with this.
No man has ever come close to the one standing before me, so handsome in a white button-down and tailored charcoal pants, his dark hair pushed back into unruly waves, and his beard neatly trimmed so it sets off his strong features. No man could compete with Xavier, with his irresistible smile and gaze filled with hopeful anticipation as he looks at me, his love on full display.
His love for me.
God. How did I get this lucky?
“What do you think?” Xavier asks, a hint of nervousness in his voice. And it’s so sweet seeing this strong man allowing himself to be vulnerable in front of me; I nearly melt into a gooey puddle on the floor. “I wanted to do something special for you, Luce. I know it’s just the apartment, but?—”
Moving into the living room, I meet him halfway across it. “I love it, Xavier. This is… it’s too much. All these flowers…”
He takes my hands in his. “I know you love yellow. And the color… it reminds me of you. Like the sun.”
My brow furrows. “I remind you of the sun?”
“Yes.” Pink touches his cheeks. “You’re like the sun. You make everyone happy when you’re around them. And you just have this glow—” He holds my gaze. “I felt it the first time I met you. This warmth. I couldn’t get enough of it. I couldn’t get enough of you.”
Oh .
My nose prickles with threatening tears, but I force them back. “Xavier. I’m not that special.”
“Yes, you are.” He lets go of my hands, framing my face as he kisses me. “You are very special, Lucy. I still don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’ll do whatever I can to make sure you never regret being with me.”
“I couldn’t.” It’s quick. Fierce. “Xavier. I love you. With all my heart. I will never regret being with you. Ever. Don’t even think that.”
“I just want you to be happy.”
“I am.” Holding his gaze, I repeat, “I am happy. With you. And I don’t know what I did to deserve you .”
A flicker of darkness shadows his eyes, and I immediately know what he’s thinking. It’s that stubborn guilt again, and I’m not letting it wedge itself further between us. Not now. Not ever.
Clasping his hand, I tug Xavier over to the couch and pull him down next to me. “Lucy?” he asks, his brows rising in surprise. “Don’t you want to see the food?”
“Yes. But first, I want to say something.”
Concern tightens his features. “What is it?”
I take a steadying breath, then say, “It’s not your fault.”
“What?”
“What happened the other day. In the woods. It wasn’t your fault.” As he starts to reply, I rush on. “Just like it wasn’t your fault I had that flashback. Or that I was taken in the first place. I want you to stop blaming yourself.”
Several seconds go by before he responds. “Maybe it’s not my fault that you were taken. But the flashback, it was because I left you. And in the woods… that was my call. I should have known better.”
“I told you I was fine. I thought I was fine. And I told you to go to the meeting. I’m not a child, Xavier. If it’s anyone’s fault that I had that flashback, it’s mine.”
His response is immediate. “No, Lucy. It’s not your fault.”
“Then it can’t be yours, either. It just happened. And I’m fine.”
Another pause, this time longer. “Maybe,” he concedes. “But in the woods?—”
“You heard what Niall and Dante said in the meeting. They went out there with Jade and Sarah. Neither of them thought about it being dangerous. I didn’t think about it. None of us did. So why is it your fault?”
“Because you’re mine to protect.” After a beat, Xavier grimaces. “I don’t mean it like that, Luce. You’re not mine. Not like a piece of property or something. But I love you so much. I need to know you’re safe. And it kills me that I put you in danger?—”
“You didn’t.” Squeezing his hand tightly, I hold his gaze as I continue, “And I’ve been thinking. Maybe those men got on the property. But everything worked like it was supposed to. The alarms went off. We got to safety. Matt and Dante caught them. No one was hurt. You protected me.”
His lips press together. “That’s true. But?—”
“Don’t you think I feel guilty? About those men coming here for me? Sarah and Jade both went through traumatic experiences of their own. And now their safe haven is compromised. That makes me feel terrible.”
“Oh, Luce.” Xavier puts his arm around me. “Please don’t think that. It’s not your fault. No one blames you.”
“And no one blames you.” After a brief pause for emphasis, I ask, “Can we both let it go? Agree that neither of us is to blame? I hate to see you hurting, and I just wish I could make it better for you.”
Emotion turns his eyes a deep, liquid brown. “Sunshine…” A hard swallow, then a nod. “Okay. I don’t want you worrying about this. I’ll work on letting it go.”
A weight lifts from my chest. “Maybe… you could join one of my counseling sessions? And we could talk about it? I think it might help.”
There’s no hesitation. “Alright. If you think it’ll help, I’ll do it.”
“Good.” Leaning in, I hug him hard. “Thank you, Xavier.”
His arms come around me as he presses his lips to the top of my head. “You never have to thank me. I would do anything for you.” Then he sits back and gives me a crooked smile. “And since we already messed up the order of things, I have something for you.”
“The order?”
“Yes.” He reaches into the drawer in the end table and pulls out a box. “It was supposed to be dinner, then dancing, your gift, and then ravishing you.”
Heat coils in my belly. “Ravishing?”
“Yup.” His smile expands. “Lots of ravishing. But now that we’re sitting here, and you look so beautiful, and I just… I want to give this to you now.”
As he places the long turquoise box in my hand, my heart flutters. It’s not the right size for a ring, but… what if it was? Would I say yes?
I would. Without question. Everything I know about Xavier makes me certain he’s the one I want to spend my life with.
On a held breath, I open the box, gasping as I see the necklace sitting inside.
Not a ring, but that’s okay. There’s still plenty of time.
And the necklace. It’s stunning—an open heart made of gold with yellow gems set inside it, attached to a delicate chain. As I stare at it, Xavier explains, “The gems are yellow diamonds. I didn’t know diamonds came in colors, but the salesperson said they do. And I thought, well, you love the color, and since I’ve given you my heart…”
Oh.
OH.
“Xavier.” My voice is thick. “I love it. So much. And you have my heart, too.”
He plucks the necklace from the box and fastens it around my neck, brushing a soft kiss to my collarbone as he does it. When he raises his head, his eyes are sparkling. “It looks beautiful on you, Lucy. Not as beautiful as you, but?—”
This incredible surge of love sweeps through me, so intense it’s hard to breathe past it. And with it, powerful desire, a desperate need to be joined with Xavier in every way possible.
“The food,” I say. “Will it be okay if it sits for a little while?”
“Um.” He thinks for a second. “Probably. It’s a mushroom gnocchi with a cream sauce. I got it from Mariano’s, since you wouldn’t want me trying to cook something that complicated. So it’s warming in the oven. And I have some bruschetta to warm up, and a Caesar salad in the fridge. Why?”
“Well, you said the order was all messed up. And I was thinking, I should really change, anyway.” Glancing down at my T-shirt and shorts, I explain, “Put on a dress or something nicer.”
“You don’t have to change. You look perfect.”
“I was thinking, though. Maybe you could help me get changed? And we could skip to the ravishing part, too?”
Desire heats his gaze. “Ah. Well. When you put it that way.” One hand comes to my waist, slipping just under my shirt. “You should get out of these clothes. And I’d be more than happy to help you.”
My core throbs. Heats.
“I would love your help.”
“Good.” His features go taut, all strong lines and angles. Both his hands move under my shirt, sliding along my skin and leaving sizzles of electricity in their wake.
As he cups my breasts, thumbing my nipples through the sheer fabric of my bra, I reach for his waistband, making quick work of the button and zipper.
Xavier pulls my shirt off and tosses it to the side before lowering his head to my breast, taking my nipple in his mouth and suckling at it. He plumps my other breast, plucking and rolling the taut peak until I’m gasping at the pleasure of it.
“You’re so damn gorgeous,” he groans as he removes my bra. His gaze devours me, his eyes nearly black with need.
I reach into his pants, stroking his velvety hot skin, feeling him swell and harden in my hand. He’s slick with excitement, and I stroke the dampness the length of him, tracing my fingers along the veins and over the swollen tip.
“Fuck, Luce.” He jerks in my hand. “That feels?—”
But I add a little pressure and that little movement he loves, and he swallows the rest of his words.
A flush of color rises in his cheeks as he looks at me, his desire a visible thing.
One hand continues alternating between my breasts, while the other moves lower. Since I’m wearing shorts, he just reaches underneath them and strokes his finger along the damp fabric at the apex of my thighs. As my hips thrust towards him, he trails kisses down my neck, lingering at the sensitive spot just above my collarbone.
He sucks hard at my skin, then caresses the small pain away with his tongue. I’m sure he left a mark, and I like it, knowing there’s evidence of his passion, just like the tiger scratches are a mark of mine.
I’m on fire for him, desperate for his touch. I want to feel his hands all over me, on my stomach, my breasts, my legs, my thighs?—
Then Xavier peels my shorts off, leaving me in only my panties, dark with the proof of my arousal. He rises from the couch, then drops to his knees and turns me so he’s between my legs, draping them over his shoulders.
I lie back against the cushions, watching as he dips his head between my thighs, his gaze meeting mine for a moment.
If I ever had a doubt about his feelings for me, it would be impossible now.
It’s all there. The desire. Trust. Love. Devotion.
This man would do anything for me.
My head falls back as he sucks on my sensitive bud, flicking at it, and it’s all too much—the sensation of his tongue and beard against the slick fabric, the stroke of his tongue, and then…
He pushes the fabric aside and plunges a finger inside me.
I let out this guttural noise that’s half moan, half whimper, and I feel myself tightening around him.
“You always feel so good,” Xavier murmurs. “So perfect.”
As he adds a second finger to the first, pumping them steadily inside me, my pleasure builds, blossoming into a wave of ecstasy about to crest.
But I can’t take my eyes off Xavier. Off this perfect man who always puts his own needs aside in favor of mine. Off the most gorgeous and thoughtful man that by some miracle, decided he wanted to be mine.
And as wonderful as what he’s doing is, it’s not enough. I need to feel all of him inside me.
Now.
So I pull away from him, wriggling out of the last of my clothes, and tell him with a hint of command, “I want everything off. Now.”
A glint catches his eyes, and his lips quirk up. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yes.” I pin him with my gaze. “You have entirely too many clothes still on. We need to fix that.”
“Well. If you say so.” And in one fluid move, Xavier whips off his shirt, sending several buttons flying. Then he stands and strips off his pants, leaving him naked before me.
“Going commando?” I ask with a tiny smirk.
He grins. “I wanted to be ready for all the ravishing.”
I gesture for him to join me on the couch. “What are you waiting for, then?”
“Don’t you want to go in the bedroom?”
“No. It’s so pretty in here. With the flowers and candles… this is perfect.”
“Ah, Luce.” Xavier leans over and lifts me, one hand under my butt, the other behind my back. I wrap my legs around his waist as he settles us back on the couch, this time so I’m on his lap. His arousal nudges at me, thick and insistent, and I can feel myself opening for him. “You are so damn perfect.”
“So are you.”
Then I gasp as he thrusts inside me, filling me, finally bringing us together as one.
And it is perfect.
All of it.
Feeling him move, first slowly, every stroke a torturous drag of skin against skin.
Then faster. Harder. More desperate.
Perspiration dampens our bodies and our breaths grow quick. My lungs burn when I forget to breathe; all my attention focused on this incredible connection.
Xavier lifts me up and down, controlling the pace, his arms flexing with every move. And it’s so sexy, letting him take the lead like this, watching his muscles work as he brings me pleasure…
It’s so perfect, I don’t want it to end.
But inevitably, my body reaches its threshold, and with one deep thrust, I explode. All my muscles tensing, even my fingers and toes, as I reach that incredible climax. My inner walls pulse in undulating waves, clutching at him, ripples of sheer pleasure radiating through my body.
Only seconds later, Xavier comes with a shout, stiffening inside me. Heat fills me, and I have a flash of thought— what if we decide to stop the birth control one day?
What if we decide to try for a baby?
Not now, not when things are still so unsettled. Not when we haven’t discussed long-term plans and marriage.
But maybe one day.
Once the aftershocks subside, Xavier lifts me off of him and goes to get a washcloth to clean both of us up. As he walks back to the couch, he gives me an appreciative look, his gaze skimming across my naked body.
“You really are beautiful,” he says. Perching on the edge of the couch, he wipes my skin in long, sensual strokes. “Your body, of course. But not just that. Everything about you is beautiful. Your heart. Your mind. Your generous soul.”
“Honey.” Sitting up, I wrap my arms around him, tipping my head back to meet his gaze. “You’re the sweetest and most beautiful person I’ve ever met.”
“I’m not sweet,” he teases.
“Yes, you are.”
Xavier pulls me back onto his lap and kisses me softly. “So are you.”
We look at each other, sharing something deeper than words.
And then my stomach lets out a loud grumble.
Chuckling, he says, “I think your stomach is telling us something.”
“I suppose we could eat. And then maybe some dancing and more ravishing?”
“Absolutely.” He pauses. “I guess we should get dressed, huh? At least for the eating part?”
I make a mock sad-face. “I guess so.”
Just as we get off the couch, Xavier’s phone chimes in a sharp, staccato rhythm. He freezes mid-step, his face clouding as he says, “We only use that number for official B and A business. I don’t want to interrupt our evening, but?—”
“Of course you need to look.” But my stomach is already squeezing into a knot, and my appetite has faded to nothing.
He swipes his phone off the coffee table, looping his other arm around me as he looks at it.
For a moment, his features go completely still.
My breath catches. Is it bad news? Worse news? How bad can it get?
Then he exhales, all his breath leaving in a gust. Turning to me, he says, “Matt found him. The man who started everything. He found the payments leading straight to him.”
My heart literally stops for a second. “He did? Really?”
Xavier sets the phone back down and gathers me into his arms. “Yeah. He did.”
“It’s going to be over?”
“Yes.” He hugs me tighter, his breath whispering across my hair. “It is.”